Scene.—Outside of cottage—Josiah and Samantha within.—Cats heard fighting dreadfully behind the scenes—Upper window opens, and Thomas J. throws out something to scare cats.—When Josiah realizes that it is a serenador, he gets out of bed and starts for the door—Samantha pulling him back again—You can see their head and shoulders as they pass by an open window below—Samantha with nightgown and night-cap on; Josiah in similar raiment, only with a tall hat and umbrella—They pass by the window several times, as he is determined he will go out and stop the music, and she will not let him.—During the serenade Tirzah Ann appears at an upper window opposite Thomas Jefferson with a night-cap on, and a bouquet of flowers—She vainly endeavors to attract Shakespeare’s attention.

Thos. J. You’ve preached long enough, brothers, on that text; I’ll put in a 7thly for you. (Throws boot.) You’ve protracted your meeting here long enough; you may adjourn, now, to somebody else’s window, and exhort them a spell. (Throws something more.) Now I wonder if you’ll come round on this circuit right away.

Sam. Thomas Jefferson, stop that noise.

Jos. Do let him be; do let him kill the old creeters, I am wore out.

Sam. Josiah, I don’t mind his killin’ the cats, but I won’t have him talking about holding protracted meetin’s and preechin’; I won’t have it.

Jos. Wall, do lay down; the most I care for is to get rid of the cats.

Sam. You do have wicked streaks Josiah, and the way you let that boy go on is awful. Where do you think you will go to, Josiah Allen?

Jos. I shall go into another bed if you can’t stop talkin’. I have been kept awake till midnight by them awful creeters, and now you want to finish me. Oh, dummit! them dum cats are at it agin.

Sam. Well, you needn’t swear so if they be; but I say it hain’t cats.

Jos. It is.

Sam. I know better, it hain’t cats.

Jos. Wall, if it hain’t cats, what is it?

Sam. It is a acordeun.

Jos. How come a acordeun under our window?

Sam. It is Shakespeare Bobbett seranadin’ Tirzah Ann, and he has got under the wrong window. Josiah Allen come back here this minute; do you realize your condition; you hain’t dressed.

Jos. Wall, I can put my hat on I ’spose.

Sam. Yes, a stovepipe hat is a great protection. Josiah Allen if you go to the door in that condition, I’ll prosicute you. What do you mean by acting so. You was young once yourself.

Jos. I wasn’t a confounded fool, if I was young.

Sam. Come back to bed, Josiah Allen; do you want to get the Bobbetses and the Doodleses mad at you?

Jos. Yes, I do.

Sam. I should think you would be ashamed of yourself, swearin’ and actin’ as you have; and you’ll end by gettin’ your death cold. (Shakespeare Bobbett has appeared outside with a guitar, and played a strain, as if uncertain of the key. Think, oh, think of me.)

Jos. No danger of our not thinkin’ on you, no danger on it. (Shakespeare plays and sings.)

Sam. Josiah Allen, if you make another move I’ll part with you. It does beat all how you act. Do you think it is any comfort for me to lay here and hear it? You was young once yourself.

Jos. Throw that in my face ag’in will you? What if I wuz? Oh! do hear him beginnin’ agin. I should like to know what comfort there is in his prowlin’ round here, makin’ two old folks lay all night in perfect agony.

Sam. It hain’t much after midnight, and if it was, do you calcolate to go through life without any trouble? If you do you’ll find yourself mistaken. (Shakespeare sings to the same tune.)

Jos. You’d be a melancholy man my young feller if I was out there half a minute with a club. Samantha, lemme go out, dummit; I will go!

Sam. Do you stop swearin’ and be calm.

Jos. I won’t be calm, and I will say dummit; there now, dummit!

S. Bob. (sings) Oh! I languish for thee; I am languishing for thee. (Upper window opens again.)

Thos. J. My musical young friend, havn’t you languished enough for one night? Because if you have, father and mother and I, being kept awake by other serenaders the fore-part of the night, will love to excuse you, will thank you for your labors in our behalf and love to bid you good evening—Tirzah Ann being fast asleep in the other end of the house. But don’t let me hurry you Shakespeare, my dear young friend, if you havn’t languished enough, you keep right on languishing. I hope I hain’t so hard hearted enough to deny a young man and neighbor the privilege of languishing. (Shakespeare departs.)